CyberStorm Part 12

"Why do you think CNN didn't come back on last night?" asked Chuck.

"Local carrier networks are probably jammed," I speculated. "Or generators ran out of power."

"Or CNN was bombed," joked Chuck. "Not that I would be entirely against that."

"Big data centers usually keep a hundred hours of fuel for backup generators. Isn't that what Rory said?"

"I think he said the New York Times had that much." He looked around at the deep snow on the streets. "Won't be any refuelling for a while."

Reaching the door of our building, we saw that snow had already drifted up against the door. We better come and clear this regularly if we want to get out. Tony was still at his post at the other end of the main-floor hallway. He waved to us.

Rea.s.suringly, we heard the rumble of a big plow coming down Ninth Avenue and saw it sweep by in the distance between the buildings. It was nearly the only evidence that the city was still operating on some level.

When the power had gone out, the local radio stations were still operating, but this morning many of them were static. The radio stations still transmitting were now filled with wild speculation about what had happened, but they were just as much in the dark as we were.

The only consistent information between all of them was that this second blackout had affected not just New England, but the entire United States, and a hundred million people or more were without power. The best the radio announcers could do was report on local conditions. We had no idea what was happening in the world, or if it even existed anymore.

It was as if New York had been disconnected from the rest of the planet and was floating alone, soundlessly, in a snowy gray cloud.

8:45 p.m.

THE FACES BEFORE me glowed in dazzling bright green, and then the green spotlight swept down the hallway, flashing off doorframes.

"Cool, huh?"

"Very cool," I replied, taking off the night-vision goggles. "Lights please?"

With a click the lights we'd jury-rigged in the hallway, connected to Chuck's generator, turned back on.

"I can't believe you have ten thousand dollars' worth of night-vision goggles and infrared flashlights." I looked around at the military paraphernalia stacked around Chuck. "And you don't have a shortwave radio."

"I've got one, but it's in Virginia at the hideaway."

Same place he should be, he didn't add.

"Thanks again for staying," I said quietly.

"Yeah, thanks for staying," said Ryan, one of our neighbors from further down the hallway. He raised a steaming cup of b.u.t.tered rum.

His partner, Rex, raised his gla.s.s as well.

"A toast to our well-prepared friend, Chuck!"

"Hear, hear!" came a halfhearted cheer from the rest of the people crowded in the hallway, nearly twenty people packed together on chairs and couches pulled out from their apartments.

We all raised our cups to drink.

Susie decided on hosting a hot rum toddy party for Christmas, and all of our neighbors were bundled and cuddled up together, holding steaming-hot cups of alcohol in their hands.

The building was retaining heat but cooling quickly.

We'd switched to using electric heaters in Chuck's apartment. The kerosene heater was more powerful but produced carbon monoxide, and Susie was worried about the kids. For this gathering we'd pulled the kerosene heater out and placed it in the center of the hallway. People were warming themselves around it as if it were a campfire.

The hallway had become our communal living room, a place to gather together and chat. We'd wired up a radio that played news in the background, mostly just listing off emergency shelter locations around the city and saying that the power would be back on soon and to stay indoors. Most of the roads and highways were impa.s.sable, in any case.

Everyone was sitting in more or less the same positions as where their apartments were located along the hallway. The Chinese couple from down the hall near Richard had finally come out and were bunched up together on one couch together with their parents, who'd come for a visit before everything fell apart. It was a bad time to have chosen to visit America for the first time, and none of them spoke English very well.

The Chinese family were sitting together with a j.a.panese couple, Hiro was the husband's name, who in turn were sitting across from Rex and Ryan. The Borodins were sitting to my right. Aleksandr was awake for once, but just barely as he sipped the hot rum drink, with Irena beside him. Chuck, Susie, Pam, and Rory were to my left, and little Ellarose was sitting up on Tony's lap.

The only one missing was Lauren.

I wasn't sure what to say to her, and she hadn't wanted to talk. I'd tried holding her, asking her to come out, but she wanted to be alone. She was in Susie's room, sleeping, or at least, being by herself.

Luke had no idea what was going on. To him, this was all a big game, a party, and he was running around, dressed up in his snowsuit, saying h.e.l.lo to everyone and showing off a red fire engine toy he'd gotten for Christmas. It lit up and made noises and would have been annoying, but it was somehow comforting. I wasn't sure how long the batteries would last.

Richard walked over from his end of the gathering to sit down on the arm of the leather chair I'd dragged out from my place. "So can we have it?"

He'd been badgering us all day about taking the kerosene heater.

"I've got some food I could trade."

Somehow he'd acquired a large load of cans and groceries, probably by offering someone a small fortune.

"If it keeps getting colder, we're going to freeze to death if we all keep in our own places. I'll take in that Chinese family and the gay guys and Hiro and his wife. Sarah and I will organize a shelter at our end, and you guys do the same at your end. All I need is the kerosene heater and a few other things."

I was impressed that he was offering to create a shelter in his apartment for other people on the floor. Maybe I have this guy wrong.

"You need to talk to Chuck," I replied.

Richard looked up at Chuck, who I was sure could hear our conversation. He was adamant that we needed to keep everything we had for ourselves, but Susie was just as adamant that we needed to share.

"Charles Mumford," whispered Susie to Chuck, "we don't need that thing. You go on now."

"Fine, yes," said Chuck finally, sighing and looking back at Richard, "and I'll collect some other stuff for you guys. That's a good idea doing a shelter for the floor."

"And can we get a cable for electricity?"

Chuck sighed deeper this time. We'd snaked an extension into Pam and Rory's next door to run a small electric heater and light. Their place was tiny, smaller than mine, so it was workable, but we'd opened a can of worms. Everyone wanted a connection.

"The generator is only six thousand watts, and we're already running three heaters."

Susie kicked his foot.

"Ah, forget it. Sure. Only for lighting? At nights? And everyone does siphon duty?"

"You bet," agreed Richard. "Good man."

Getting up to leave, he turned to me.

"Is Lauren okay?"

"Yeah, she's good," I replied without enthusiasm.

Richard frowned, but then shrugged and returned to his wife, Sarah, who was sitting and trying to talk to the Chinese family. Luke was over with them, and the Chinese grandfather was admiring his new fire engine. I smiled at them, and the grandfather smiled back. We'd decided the bird flu warning was a hoax.

Just then the stairwell door opened, giving everyone a start.

A face slowly appeared, smiling awkwardly. It was Paul, the suspected intruder from the day before. Chuck's eyes narrowed. He whispered to Tony, who looked up at Paul, wagged his head slightly, and shrugged back at Chuck.

"Hey, guys," said Paul with a small wave. The light from his headlamp flashed in my eyes. "Wow. Cozy up here."

Squinting, I raised one hand. "Could you turn that off?"

"Sorry, forgot. You're the only ones with real lights."

"Paul, from 514, right?"

"Uh-huh."

Chuck leaned toward me and whispered, "Tony locked the front door hours ago, and he says this guy sort of looks familiar. I guess I was wrong."

Everyone in the hallway was quiet, waiting on us. I smiled back at Paul.

"Want a drink?"

"That'd be great."

Conversations resumed, and I quickly introduced Paul around while Susie fetched him a hot toddy. Paul shook everyone's hand, exchanging enthusiastic Merry Christmases until he got to Irena and Aleksandr.

"Merry Christmas!" he said, outstretching his hand. Irena looked up at him, pressing her lips together and frowning.

"Happy holidays, yes," she replied, nodding, but neither she nor Aleksandr extended a hand to shake.

Maybe it's because they're Jewish? It wasn't often I saw them being grumpy, but the stress was getting to everyone.

Paul dropped his hand, still smiling, and pointed to a spot next to them on their couch. Irena shrugged and shifted slightly. He squeezed himself in next to them, cupping the hot toddy Susie gave him. He blew on it and took a sip.

"You guys look pretty organized. Any idea what's going on?"

I shook my head. "We know as much as anyone else."

"But everyone has an opinion," said Chuck, raising his drink, "so how about a straw poll?"

He looked at Paul.

"You start."

"Easy, gotta be the Chinese. We've been squaring off for a fight with them for years." He looked toward the Asian corner. "No offense."

The Chinese family smiled back, perhaps not understanding, but Hiro, the husband of the j.a.panese couple, shook his head.

"We're j.a.panese."

Chuck laughed loudly. "Probably not you guys this time, but what's your vote?"

Hiro looked at his wife, gripping her hand.

"China?"

"Amen to that, brother," agreed Paul, raising his drink. "I hope they're bombing those b.a.s.t.a.r.ds back to the Stone Age right now."

This time he didn't bother apologizing to the Chinese family.

"India and China are in the middle of that huge fight over dams in the Himalayas," pointed out Chuck. "How do we know the Indians didn't cause that dam failure?"

"It's possible the Indians were involved," said Rory, "but the Chinese wrecking America would be like burning down your own house to get rid of the tenants. They own half of it."

"Political leaders do stupid things all the time," I pointed out.

"Not the Chinese," observed Chuck. "They got that thousand-year planning."

"Don't be too impressed," said Rory. "Their politicians are as bad as ours. But my bet is the Iranians. Did you see their ayatollah on TV just before the blackout?"

Tony liked that suggestion. "If we've been spoiling for a fight with anyone, it's those towel-head Arabs. Had a chip on their shoulder ever since they took our emba.s.sy hostage in '79."

"We did overthrow their democratically elected government and install a dictator that terrorized them," pointed out Rory. "And they're not Arabs, they're Persian."

Tony looked confused. "I thought you thought they did this?"

"Maybe," Rory sighed. "It's hard to say."

"Russians," said Richard, "it's the Russians. Who else could have invaded our airs.p.a.ce?"

"Ah, yes," laughed Chuck. "A commie under every cover."

"Do you know they just restarted strategic bomber flights over the Arctic?" said Richard to Chuck. "Same flight patterns as the Cold War?"

"I did not know that," admitted Chuck.

"Yeah, they did," confirmed Rory.

"Ruskies ran out of money for a few years in the nineties," continued Richard, "but you can bet they don't like playing second fiddle to America and China. Probably taking us both down at the same time."

A quiet pause.

"I bet half of America is a smoking crater already. That's why no military has shown up. We're f.u.c.ked."

"You don't need to scare everyone," said a tiny voice. "I think this is all just an accident of some kind."